


My Boyfriend is a Kitsune

by MizushimaHikari



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Animals, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Animal Transformation, Drama & Romance, Foxes, Grand Prix Final, Ice Skating, Kitsune, M/M, Mutual Pining, Secrets, World Figure Skating Championships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-17 03:42:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9302648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MizushimaHikari/pseuds/MizushimaHikari
Summary: Viktor Nikiforov finds himself fascinated by the timid, aloof, glass-hearted Japanese figure skater Katsuki Yuuri. Katsuki Yuuri, however, is a kitsune – a fox spirit who has chosen to disguise himself as a world-class figure skater.A non-human AU inspired by My Girlfriend is a Gumiho.





	1. Don’t Vanish Tonight Along with the Stars

Four-time world figure skating champion Viktor Nikiforov surprised everyone under Coach Yakov Feltsman’s wing when he specifically expressed a preference to go to NHK Trophy for the upcoming Grand Prix Series. As the undisputed star of Russian figure skating, he was expected to participate in Rostelecom Cup. NHK Trophy was the penultimate event of the series, and Rostelecom Cup, the final one. 

No one could fathom why Viktor wanted to skate two competitions, one week after the next. It didn’t make sense. 

Yakov had said, “Vitya, you idiot! You’re going to injure yourself!” 

Undeterred, Viktor accepted invitations to compete at NHK and Rostelecom. 

It still didn’t make sense. 

By NHK, though, everyone understood. On the night before his flight to Sapporo, Japan, just as Viktor was leaving the rink, Mila teased, “Don’t flirt too much with that Katsuki Yuuri kid!” 

Georgi piped up, “They say he has a glass heart. Don’t break him!” 

“You’re an idiot!” contributed Yuri. 

Viktor sighed as he headed out. Was he that obvious? 

The reasonable part of his mind informed him that he was indeed that obvious. He spent most of his breaks watching videos of “that Katsuki Yuuri kid.” Of course his rinkmates had noticed. 

Katsuki Yuuri, the Japanese ace, put a spell on him. This man, who had come into the senior division from out of nowhere and who had no coach, had miraculously skated into the hearts and minds of people worldwide. Although his jumps were inconsistent, his step sequences were so emotional that they could make rocks weep. 

Last year, the first time Viktor watched a video of Yuuri’s skating, he couldn’t sleep that night – he had lain awake, reveling in his natural grace. 

Viktor wanted nothing more than to meet Yuuri. So far, he had had no luck. They had different Grand Prix Series assignments last year, and Yuuri had not qualified for the Grand Prix Final. The next competition they could both attend was the World Championships. Viktor had truly believed he would meet Yuuri there. Unfortunately, due to sudden illness, Yuuri had withdrawn from the event. 

Viktor thought about Yuuri, his absent muse, when he performed his short program and free skate at Worlds. 

But the tide was turning; Yuuri, as Japan’s top male skater, was going to NHK Trophy. Even better, he was going to Rostelecom Cup as well. 

Two chances. Maybe three. 

After an uneventful day of traveling, Viktor arrived at the hotel in Sapporo and passed out in his room. He never did have any stamina left over after traveling. 

The next morning, to Viktor’s disappointment, Yuuri wasn’t at practice. This wasn’t shocking; he had a reputation for missing official practices. 

That evening, right before the men’s short program, Viktor saw Yuuri in person for the first time. He nearly didn’t recognize that average-looking man with the blue glasses. 

That is, until American reporters came up to that unremarkable creature and asked him questions in English. 

“Mr. Katsuki, this is your first competition this season. What are your goals?” 

Viktor turned when he heard that name. 

“I have two goals,” a meek voice explained in accented English, “To skate my best and not to cry at competitions.” 

“Very well. We wish you the best.” The American reporters left, and Japanese reporters took their place, peppering him with questions. 

Viktor stared. Even when Yuuri spoke Japanese, his voice was still soft and feathery light. 

Yakov then dragged his idiot student towards the rink to skate, all the while lecturing him for being easily distracted. 

As usual, Viktor didn’t listen to his coach at all, which he ended up regretting. In his short program to Edvin Marton’s Victory, he accidentally did a triple lutz instead of a planned quad. Everything else was flawless, so he still ended up in first place. Nonetheless, in the kiss and cry, Yakov reprimanded him for leaving so many points on the ice with his mistake. 

Viktor didn’t care. He was too busy listening to the officials announce the next skater. “Next on the ice, representing Japan, is Katsuki Yuuri. He will be skating to Sunshine through the Rain.”

Mesmerized, Viktor watched his rival skate across the ice, rubbing a pearl bead on his necklace, waiting for the music to play. Yuuri then skated to the melancholy of delicate rain drops. On the ice, that ordinary man transformed into a force of nature itself. He flubbed his quadruple salchow, but still wound up in second place. 

Viktor was sure that Yuuri would be in first place if that salchow had gone right. 

Furious with his student, Yakov forbade Viktor from socializing with other skaters. “You’re going to skate cleanly tomorrow no matter what.” 

For once, Viktor obeyed, retreating to his room and going to bed early. He fell asleep listening to Sunshine through the Rain. 

Viktor skated lights out the next day, cleanly landing all of his jumps and hitting all the musical accents of Stammi Vicino. No doubt about it, he was winning NHK Trophy. 

Relaxing, Viktor turned his attention to the final skater, Yuuri. “Next on the ice, representing Japan, is Katsuki Yuuri. He will be skating to Fox Rain.” 

Again, Yuuri performed a technically flawed program that nevertheless captivated the audience. During the timid opening, he skated gently, carefully, deliberately. Then, as the program progressed, taking on a soaring optimism, he skated without abandon, his movements echoing through the rink. It was like he was portraying night and day. At a quiet interlude, he performed an Ina Bauer so beautiful that he earned a standing ovation. 

Viktor’s heart swelled at that Ina Bauer. 

He had to meet this man, face-to-face. Yakov, realizing something was up, told him, “Vitya, we have a flight tomorrow. Don’t miss it.” Then, he got up and walked away, leaving Viktor on his own. 

Yakov knew, and this was how he let Viktor know it was okay. 

Right after the men’s award ceremony, Viktor latched onto Yuuri’s hand and called his name. “Yuuri!” 

Yuuri spun around. “V- V- Viktor Nikiforov?!” 

“Yuuri, congratulations on winning second place here! I’m a big fan of yours!” 

“Really?!” He looked extremely startled. Did the man not realize he had fans? He was so innocent and pure, as if he had grown up far, far away from the ruthless, prying fame of figure skating acclaim. Viktor wanted to hug this precious cinnamon roll. 

“Yes. I’m so happy to meet you. Come to my room and have coffee with me,” he said with a wink. 

“I don’t know…” Yuuri said bashfully. 

“Please?” 

“Okay! I’m a fan of yours too!” Yuuri assented. 

The two skaters went to Viktor’s hotel room in awkward silence. Viktor was too busy squealing on the inside to make conversation. 

Yuuri whispered, “I’m going to Rostelecom. You are too?” 

“Yes!” Viktor touched a finger to his lips, which curled up in a cheeky grin. “Hey, you know what would be fun?” 

“What?” 

“Sizing up the competition.” 

So here they were, watching Chris Giacometti’s free skate from Trophee de France. 

“Oh!” Yuuri cried as Chris fell for the second time. 

“Chris’ll be fine. He starts slowly in the season. Doesn’t like peaking too early. He’s good at coming from behind. Definitely one to watch out for.” Viktor smiled as he talked about his friend. 

“His theme is… mature eros?” asked Yuuri. 

Viktor chuckled. “Mature eros is his specialty.” 

“Viktor,” Yuuri mumbled, “What’s your theme?” 

He paused. Did he even have a theme? “Well, Victory is about how I want to win, of course! And Stammi Vicino… it’s about how skating makes me feel. Hm, I guess my theme is my relationship with skating.” 

Yuuri frowned. He stood up and, without warning, perfectly mimicked Viktor’s opening choreography, the tilt of his head, the arm swirling down his face. “That’s how figure skating makes you feel?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with tears. 

Only then did Viktor realize how forlorn Yuuri looked performing the movements. He approached Yuuri and threw his arms around his shoulders. “I don’t want to see you this sad.” 

They stood there entwined until Viktor extended Yuuri’s arms out to his sides. “Dance with me, Yuuri. Your body evokes music.” 

Hours felt like minutes, and much too soon, it was almost dawn, almost time for Viktor to leave. He couldn’t believe he had pulled an all-nighter with Yuuri. 

Yuuri looked outside the window and gasped. “I have to go, Viktor.” 

“Me too,” Viktor admitted, turning his attention to his suitcase. As Viktor haphazardly flung items inside it, he heard the door open and close; it dawned on him that Yuuri left without even saying goodbye. 

The sky brightened, mocking Viktor’s darkening mood. How could Yuuri just leave him like that after that magical night? 

Viktor couldn’t resist sending Chris an angry, frustrated text about the Japanese ace before boarding his plane. 

~  
   
It was time for Rostelecom Cup, the last of the Grand Prix Series. Three skaters had guaranteed their entrance to the Grand Prix Final: Phichit Chulanont, Otabek Altin, and Jean-Jacques Leroy. Three more spots were up for contention. Tensions were high. 

Even Viktor was feeling the pressure. At this point, there were easily six competitors at this event who had a chance to qualify for the Grand Prix Final. Viktor felt death ray glares on his being – he was the only one here who could qualify without making it onto the podium. He was the chased, not the chaser. He had to watch his back. 

Viktor’s skating was technically flawless, yet he didn’t care. Any personal concern regarding his own skating was outweighed by Yuuri’s skating – in the short program, Yuuri fell on a jump right before a spin, losing points from the jump as well as from an uncharacteristically lackluster spin. 

Yuuri recovered well enough in the free skate, taking third place overall in the competition. Silver went to Chris, and gold, of course, went to Viktor. 

Standing on the podium felt so hilariously awkward. Ever since Viktor had sent that indignant text, his longtime friend Chris had bombarded him with suggestive messages about his not-so-secret obsession with Yuuri. Even worse, at the event, he kept winking at him whenever he caught Viktor staring at Yuuri. Needless to say, on the podium, Chris was winking nonstop. 

On the other side was Yuuri, who left him so abruptly…

Then again, this group of medalists was ideal. Viktor as well as his friend and his muse all qualified for the Grand Prix Final in Sochi. 

Immediately following the award ceremony, Chris snaked his arms around the shoulders of his fellow men’s medalists and said, “Let’s go out and celebrate! Viktor, anywhere good in Moscow?”

Viktor glared at his compatriot, as if to convey, ‘What the fuck are you doing?’

Chris winked at him yet again, almost as if he were saying, ‘Pipe down, I know what’s up. I’m the world’s best wingman, after all.” 

Oblivious to the unspoken exchange, Yuuri said, “This skater I know, Phichit, mentioned a nice place close by.” 

“Cool, let’s go!” said Chris. 

At that instant, Viktor decided he would to his best to forgive Yuuri for disappearing that night at NHK Trophy. 

The trio went to Yuuri’s suggested place and had a pleasant dinner discussing the evening’s skating and the Grand Prix Final. Suddenly, Chris looked at his phone and said, “It’s been great chatting with you two, but I have to go. I promised a friend I would see him.” 

He got up and left, nudging Viktor as he walked past. A fragile silence hovered over the table. 

Viktor smirked. “I bet Chris is meeting his mystery man.” 

“Mystery man?” 

“Yeah. He’s top-secret! I don’t even know Mystery Man’s actual name, and I’m one of Chris’s closest friends.” 

“Oh, I see. Do you have any friends you need to see tonight, Viktor?” 

“Not at all!” Viktor exclaimed. Well, it was true if he didn’t count his scheme to spend the evening with Yuuri. 

“I… I had fun with you at NHK.” 

“Me too!” Viktor blurted. 

“It was a lot of fun ‘sizing up the competition.’” Yuuri said shyly. 

“Let’s head back and do that again! Your room or mine?” 

“Yours!” 

That was an oddly enthusiastic response. That was good, right? 

Viktor and Yuuri padded down the snowy streets of Moscow, passing the ice rink and arriving at the hotel. Soon, they were in Viktor’s room, watching JJ Leroy’s short program at Skate Canada, cackling over his signature pose. 

“IT’S… JJ STYLE!” Viktor bellowed, positioning his hands just like JJ’s. 

“No no no, how about this?” Yuuri suggested between giggles. “You know that anime, Sailor Moon?” 

“Yeah, what about it?” 

“In the name of the moon… IT’S JJ STYLE!” 

Viktor doubled over on the bed, wheezing. “WOW! AMAZING!” 

Yuuri joined Viktor on the bed. “You’re so beautiful when you laugh. I’d love to see you skate like this,” he admitted. 

Viktor remembered something he wished he had done last week, something that had plagued his dreams. Oh well, a week late was better than never. “Oh yeah, Yuuri, you asked me about my theme. What’s your theme this season?” 

“What do you think it is?” Yuuri said inscrutably. 

“You’re skating to Sunshine through the Rain and Fox Rain, no? I would say your theme was rain.” 

“Close. My theme is renewal,” Yuuri answered, a sheen of pride upon his face. 

“Do explain,” Viktor coaxed. 

“Rain renews the earth. It washes away dirt and grime and mystery, revealing the truth.” 

“Why did you choose renewal as your theme?” 

“I like rain!” Yuuri said wistfully. “It smells nice. It feels nice in my hair. And I want to figure out how to be true to myself in my skating.” More sadly, he said, “I’ve spent the last few years using skating to hide who I am. I want to skate honestly. I want to let the world know the real me. I don’t even know the real me…” 

Viktor embraced Yuuri, causing the latter to gasp. “Yuuri, it makes me sad whenever I see you this sad. I think I’ve seen the real you, and I like what I see.” 

“You don’t know what you don’t know,” he rebutted ominously. 

“Oh yeah? Show me Katsuki Yuuri tonight.” 

Yuuri growled and locked lips with Viktor. 

Viktor closed his eyes and deepened the kiss. Yuuri was right – he didn’t know what he didn’t know. 

The next morning, Viktor woke up shivering. Clenching his eyelids shut, he pulled the blankets close to his bare torso. Why was it so cold? It wasn’t cold last night with Yuuri here – 

Yuuri wasn’t here anymore. 

Viktor sat up, looking around the room. No trace of him, not even a note. Viktor roared like a wounded animal and curled up under the blanket. Yuuri had abandoned him again! 

Katsuki Yuuri was such a selfish human being, stringing him along for a rollercoaster of a night and casting him aside once he outlived his usefulness. Viktor never wanted to see that pig again! 

He sighed into his pillow. He knew that wasn’t true; he knew he would welcome Yuuri back in a heartbeat. 

~  
   
Today was the day, the fateful day that had eluded the grasps of all but six figure skaters. 

Yes, today was the day of the men’s short program at the Grand Prix Final! 

Because he was first place according to the Grand Prix Series rules, Viktor was skating last. He chilled by the sidelines, ignoring the competitive pressure on his shoulders. He could mentally prepare himself during the penultimate skater’s performance. 

Chris went first, skating more like his late-season self and setting a season’s best score. 

Phichit Chulanont, a rising star Viktor had seen on SNS, skated next. Although he skated cleanly and emotionally, he simply didn’t have the technical goods to surpass Chris. 

Up next was Yuuri. Viktor bit his lip and suppressed that feeling of resent welling up in his throat. He vowed to focus on Yuuri, the skater, not Yuuri, the vanishing companion. Viktor was the more technically advanced skater, but Yuuri possessed such stamina he could only dream of! All three jumping passes in the second half of the program! His triple axel came out beautifully. So did his quad salchow – followed by a triple toe?! Why had Yuuri changed his jumps? 

At that moment, Yuuri performed his last jump. Not a quad toe as planned – a quad flip! True, Yuuri landed poorly and put his hand down, but no matter. Viktor’s heart felt like it was doing a quad flip as well. That jump was his signature move! What was Yuuri trying to say? 

Yuuri took second place, between Chris and Phichit. 

Next up was Otabek Altin, the hero of Kazakhstan. When Otabek was at the edge of the rink, a familiar voice shouted, “Davai!” 

Without a change in his facial expression, Otabek looked up and gave a thumbs-up. Viktor looked up, seeing Yuri Plisetsky waving his hands. Yuri blushed and looked away. 

Otabek skated well, scoring a personal best and taking first place. 

Viktor began to stretch as JJ Leroy took the ice. 

He was concentrating so hard on the layout of his short program that he didn’t notice the collective shock over the crowd when he took the ice, didn’t notice the hordes of crying JJ fans. 

Right before the music started, Viktor envisioned that imperfect, earnest quad flip. Motivation flooded his veins; he would emerge victorious in this complicated dance with Katsuki Yuuri. 

There, in Sochi, he broke the world record. 

After the press conference with the top three men (Viktor, Otabek, and Chris), Viktor slumped over. This – all of this – was exhausting. 

All of the sudden, a nondescript man with glasses passed by. It had to be him! Viktor instantly got up and ran after him. 

“Yuuri!” he hollered. 

The man stopped and turned around. “Viktor!” 

“I had such a great time with you in Moscow! Where did you go? Surely I’m not that old and boring!” he said playfully. That was how he dealt with his anger – with humor and salt. 

Yuuri looked truly apologetic. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t stay. Something came up.” 

“You could have left a note,” Viktor said petulantly. 

“I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you tonight.” 

Inner Viktor was screaming, ‘Don’t do it! He’ll only leave you again!’ Viktor, however, knew his heart no longer belonged to himself. “I would like that, Yuuri.” 

They made their way back to Viktor’s room, Viktor blatantly ignoring the looks from his coach and rinkmates. It was already very late; Yakov certainly wouldn’t appreciate any tomfoolery in the middle of a competition. 

The men’s free skate was the day after tomorrow. Surely he could let go tonight. 

Once they were settled in Viktor’s bed, Yuuri’s head in the crook of Viktor’s arm, Yuuri asked, “What did you think of today’s skating?” 

“It was really good! The ice was blessed today!” 

“It was for you,” Yuuri agreed halfheartedly. 

“You as well! I’ve never seen anything as enthralling as your quad flip.” 

“I screwed up!” 

“No, Yuuri. You pushed your body to the limit. That’s what we athletes strive to do. To push and push and see what the flesh can achieve. The child in me is always amazed when a figure skater such as you or me flings his pathetic meat-sack body into the air and lands on a razor thin edge.” 

“Viktor…” 

“It excites me to think of what you can do with your body, Yuuri.” 

“Viktor… no! I can’t stay.” Yuuri said suddenly. 

“What? No! Don’t leave me again!” Desperation colored Viktor’s voice. He hated the way he sounded right now, hated the neediness dripping from each syllable. 

“You don’t understand… If I stay, I won’t be able to go.” 

“You – you always disappear!” 

Yuuri caressed the side of Viktor’s face. “You don’t know how hard it is for me to resist you…”

“Don’t vanish tonight along with the stars!” 

“I… I won’t.” Yuuri met his eyes sadly. 

The next morning, Viktor woke up as sunlight streamed through the window. Relishing the sensation of covers on his bare legs, he closed his eyes and rolled over, his hands grazing over soft fur…

Fur? Makkachin wasn’t with him. 

Viktor opened his eyes. 

There, in the bed, was a medium-sized deep gray fox, nuzzling Viktor’s hand. 

Viktor screamed. 

The fox yelped too, dashing into the bathroom and nudging the door shut. 

He sprung out of bed, leaping towards the hotel landline. Just as he scanned the desk for a number – any number – he could call to get rid of a fox, for fuck’s sake, he noticed a short, handwritten written on the hotel stationery. 

Viktor – 

There is a gray fox in the room. It is friendly. Please don’t alert anyone else to its existence. Please don’t leave the room until this evening, when I get back. 

Yuuri

Viktor slammed the desk in frustration. Yuuri had vanished yet again, leaving him a feral animal and a cryptic note. What a fucking enigma. 

He wanted so badly to leave the room, show that selfish bastard that he wasn’t under his spell, but that was a lie. He would wait. Yuuri said he would be back. His clothing and belongings were still scattered on the floor. 

After texting Yakov and Chris to tell them that he felt a little ill and would be staying in his room, Viktor went to the bathroom and tentatively opened the door. The fox was huddled in a corner of the bathtub, whimpering. He reached out and murmured, “Hello there, little one. I got Yuuri’s note. I’ll take care of you.” 

The fox licked his hand and followed him out, back into the room. Viktor lounged around, watching old videos of himself and taking naps. When he lay down on the bed, the fox joined him, resting its snout in the crook of Viktor’s elbow. The note was right – this was a friendly fox! 

The day meandered by until civil twilight settled on the city of Sochi. Viktor was cuddling with the fox, much like he would with Makkachin, when, all of the sudden, the fox nipped his hand. Viktor let go, and the fox bounded back to the bathroom, again closing the door. 

Fearing he upset the fox, Viktor followed it. Just as the last glimmers of sunlight faded, he heard a click from the door handle. He fought the door handle to no avail; it was locked. 

Then, with his hand still on the door, he felt another click. The handle turned, and out came Katsuki Yuuri, wearing a towel and that necklace. 

“YUURI?! What? How?” Questions and confusion spilled from Viktor’s mouth. “Were you in there the whole time? Where’s that fox?” 

“Viktor… I’ll explain. Please don’t hate me.” 

“What is it?” 

“I haven’t been honest with anyone. The truth is I’m not human. I’m a kitsune, a fox spirit.”  
 


	2. I’m Afraid of Losing You

“Come again? You’re a what?” Viktor said stupidly. 

“I’m a kitsune. I’m a fox that can shape-shift.” 

“What? That sounds made up.”

“Let’s sit down for this.” Yuuri gestured towards the bed. Still in shock, Viktor obeyed. The two men sat side-by-side on the edge of the bed and, Viktor believed, something far more precipitous. 

Without making eye contact, Yuuri began his monologue. “I’m a fox spirit from Kyushu. Hasetsu, Kyushu.” 

“All fox spirits can learn to shape-shift into human beings. But we can only disguise ourselves at night. During the day, the sun reveals our true form.” 

Something minor and mundane clicked in Viktor’s head. “Is that why you never attend morning practices?” 

“Yes. I also can’t compete when the men skate in the morning or afternoon. That’s why I didn’t go to Worlds last season.” 

Viktor realized his question was one sapling tree in a forest of inquiry. “Why are you a figure skater?” 

Yuuri looked down at his lap. “Uh… I don’t know. Let’s see…” Yuuri twiddled his thumbs, seemingly in admiration of his dexterous fingers. “When I was a pup, there was a human family, a nice human family. The Katsukis. They fed me when it was winter and food was scarce. Sometimes, they fed me katsudon.” He smiled wistfully. 

“The Katsukis lived near a pond that froze every winter. A girl named Yuuko always came by to skate on that pond. She was always sweet to me. She petted me and named me Yuri, after a lily she found next to me the first time we met. Yuuko let me watch her skate. I wanted to be like her. So that’s what I did.” 

Yuuri laughed mirthlessly. “And now I’m done. I’ll have to retire after the Grand Prix Final.” 

“What? No!” Viktor latched onto Yuuri’s arm. “You can’t quit! Your skating… It’s everything.” 

Heartlessly, Yuuri replied, “I should quit. It’s too risky for a kitsune like me. People will definitely find out. It’s only a matter of time. You’re the first human being to know, but who’s next?” 

In spite of his measured voice, Yuuri placed his hand on Viktor’s back, more to soothe himself rather than to comfort his companion. 

That gentle touch only brought diamond tears to Viktor’s eyes. 

“Yuuri! We can be more careful! I can help you!” Viktor blathered. Anything to keep this amazing artist on the ice. 

“Viktor, you’re too kind. There’s simply no point in continuing. I’ve achieved all I can in figure skating. I choreograph my own programs. I train by myself. I don’t see myself improving without a coach, and there’s no way a kitsune like me I can get one.” 

“Yuuri...” Viktor said, weaving his fingers together. 

“What, Viktor?” 

“Come to St. Petersburg with me. Yakov can be your coach!” 

“What?! I can’t!” Yuuri protested. 

“Yakov is a good man. He’ll take care of you the way he’s taken care of me.” 

“No! It’s too risky! I won’t let anyone else find out about me!” 

Viktor slumped over in defeat but gradually sat up. 

“Yuuri. Come to St. Petersburg with me. I’ll be your coach!” 

Wait, did he just say that? He didn’t know the first thing about being a coach. Oh, well – desperate times called for desperate measures. 

“No! You can’t do that!” 

“Why not? In case you haven’t noticed, I know how to skate!” Viktor argued. “Besides, I already know you’re a kitsune.” 

“You’d have to retire to be a coach! You can’t retire!” 

“Who said I was retiring? I’ll be your coach AND rival.” 

“You can’t. Don’t let me inconvenience you…” 

“It’s not an inconvenience. It’s an honor. A privilege!” Viktor replied, his voice more serious than it had been in years. “I’m telling Yakov that you’re coming back with me, whether or not he likes it.” 

“Viktor…” 

Viktor cupped Yuuri’s chin and brought him close. Sensually, he whispered, “You know what I want, Yuuri? I want to see you land a perfect quad flip with +3 GOE. Let me teach you.” He began to close the distance. 

“Viktor!” Yuuri pushed him away, his face cherry red. “There’s skating tonight. Pairs, ice dance, and ladies. Let’s go watch!” 

Without waiting for an answer, Yuuri led Viktor out of the hotel to the rink. Once they were there, Viktor dragged him to the stands where Yuri was sitting, his legs spread wide enough to cover the expanse of three seats. 

“Viktor,” Yuri sneered. “I see you brought the other Yuuri.” 

“Can we sit here with you?” Yuuri asked quietly. 

“There isn’t enough room in this stadium for two Yuris.” 

Viktor grinned as benignly as he could, but his fist was tightly clenched. “You’re absolutely right! It would be confusing to have two Yuris,” he said too cloyingly. “That means,” he said as he pointed at Yuri, “You’re now Yurio! Problem solved.” 

“WHAT?!” Yuri shouted. 

“Yurio, we’re sitting here. Also, where’s Yakov?” 

“That’s not my name! Anyway, Yakov’s backstage with the old hag.” Yuri pouted. 

“Oh yeah, Mila’s skating today,” Viktor remarked. 

As Yuuri took a spot adjacent to Yuri, the junior skater gave him a look of reluctant acceptance, directing his anger at Viktor. “Where have you been? You don’t look sick,” he accused. “Does it have anything to do with …”

“Yuri!” A deep voice called. Otabek Altin came up to Yuri and asked, “May I take this seat next to you?” 

“O – Otabek! Sure,” Yuri turned to Viktor, who was now sitting on Yuuri’s other side, and gave him a what-are-you-looking-at face. Yuri’s face flushed a gentle pink. 

Coolly, Viktor returned the stare. The two rinkmates simultaneously nodded, an unspoken agreement met. 

After an excellent ladies’ short program (Mila was in second!), Yakov found his students in the stands along with their newfound male friends. Yakov’s face was turning fire truck red, and steam was pouring from his ears – Viktor knew what was next: an invective on not allowing personal lives to interfere with competition. 

Hmph. He was going to get chewed out no matter what, so it might as well be on his own terms. 

Before Yakov could start his tirade, Viktor held up his index finger and cried, “Yakov! I have great news! You’ve inspired me!” 

“…Viktor?” Yakov said, his voice dangerously soft, the calm before the storm. 

Time to go all out. Viktor slung his arm around Yuuri’s waist and drew him close. “I’m going to be coaching Yuuri Katsuki!” 

“YOU’RE RETIRING?!” 

“Nope!” 

“So you’re going to compete AND coach this kid?” Yakov said incredulously. 

“Yup!” Viktor replied with a smile. Inside, though, he was beginning to realize how terrible his plan sounded. 

Yakov buried his face in his hands. Through his fingers (and clenched teeth), he said, “It’s too selfish of you to be a half-assed coach.” 

Ouch. He had a point there. 

To Yuuri, Yakov calmly said, “I don’t know what Vitya told you, but if you’re set on following him, I can be your coach.” 

Yuri and Otabek gasped. Yakov only trained the cream of the crop; it had taken Otabek years of practice before Yakov permitted him to train in St. Petersburg in the summer. 

Viktor squirmed inside. He could just see this house of cards come tumbling down. Yuuri wouldn’t train under him or Yakov. He wouldn’t come to St. Petersburg and stay close to him. No, he was going to retire and leave the ice forever. 

Yuuri, however, met Yakov’s steely gaze. Resolutely, he said, “Coach Feltsman, thank you for your offer, but I have already agreed to have Viktor as my coach. Please permit me to train in your facilities. I apologize for my impertinence!” 

Everyone was astonished. Viktor could hear his rapid heartbeat – the house of cards was still standing. 

Finally, Yakov sighed deeply. “Sure, you can use my rink. You’ll probably use it whether or not I let you.” He stomped off, muttering incomprehensibly. 

Yuuri’s façade of confidence seeped away, leaving a frightened young man, a scared animal with its tail between its legs. He clung to Viktor’s gray sweater, whispering, “Please take care of me…” 

Viktor stroked Yuuri’s hair. That night, they fell asleep together in Viktor’s room. 

A demon must have cursed the ice during the men’s free skate. JJ and Phichit both delivered the worst free skates of their lives. Yuuri escaped the jinx relatively unscathed, with only a hand down on his attempted quad flip. He was currently sitting in first place. 

Chris, poor guy, fell once and had his step sequence invalidated, taking second place behind Yuuri. Only then did Viktor let out that breath he didn’t know he had been holding. Since Yuuri was currently first with only two skaters left to go, he was guaranteed to medal. 

Completely blocking out all distractions, such as Otabek’s free skate, Viktor imagined his free skate to Stammi Vicino, the technical elements and the choreography that connected those disjoint jumps and spins and steps into a cohesive story of loneliness and sorrow. 

He took the ice just as they announced Otabek’s score. He had scored just high enough to edge out Yuuri, taking first place. For the first time in years, Viktor felt a shiver of anxiety climb up his spine. 

It started out well, with an exquisitely executed quad lutz. Then, he fell on his quad flip. After that, Viktor’s mind went blank, and muscle memory took over. 

He still won, just not beautifully. 

~  
   
It was the middle of the night by the time Viktor and Yuuri stumbled into Viktor’s St. Petersburg apartment. “It’ll be easier to keep your secret if you live with me,” Viktor had said when persuading Yuuri into this arrangement. 

A large poodle pounced from under the sofa to meet his human, but he stopped a few feet away and growled. Quivering, Yuuri pressed himself against the wall. 

“What’s gotten into you, Makkachin?” Viktor scolded. To Yuuri, he said, “Sorry about my dog! He usually likes people!” 

“I’m a fox. He must know,” he whispered despondently. 

“Makkachin’s gentle!” Viktor crouched to cuddle his poodle. 

The fox spirit and the dog eyed each other suspiciously. Carefully, Yuuri said, “I believe you, Viktor. Still, could I have my own room during the day? One with a door?” 

“I only have one bedroom. We can share it. You’ll have it all to yourself during the day.” 

Removing his overcoat, Viktor said, “Since you won bronze at the Grand Prix Final, you’re automatically guaranteed a spot for Four Continents and Worlds, right?” 

“Um, yes.” 

“Are you planning to go to Japanese Nationals then?” 

Yuuri frowned slightly. “I can’t. The men’s short program is taking place in the afternoon. I’m going to tell the federation I have the flu and withdraw.” 

“That works out well!” Viktor responded brightly. “Russian Nationals is taking place the same week! I won’t have to be in two countries at once.” 

Yuuri wiped his eye, and then Viktor realized his new housemate was crying. 

“What’s wrong, Yuuri?” 

The kitsune let out a shaky sob. “It doesn’t work out well at all! I don’t like lying to JSF. I don’t like relying on reputation and taking coveted Team Japan spots without going to Nationals and earning it. I wish I could skate during the day…” 

Yuuri was outright crying, much to Viktor’s dismay. He was lousy at comforting people, incompetent at stringing together words into consolations. 

So instead, he spooned Yuuri from behind, softly but firmly saying, “I am so proud of you for caring and doing everything you can. We’ll train hard and prove that you deserve to be on Team Japan.” 

The pair retreated to Viktor’s bedroom, making sure to lock out Makkachin. 

~

Early next morning, Viktor woke up, left the fox tucked into the sheets, and endured a strenuous day of training, staying at the rink from dawn to dusk. He returned to his apartment and then headed back towards the rink, this time with Yuuri by his side. They stayed there, practicing jumps and finessing his choreography until just before midnight. 

At that point, they were both drained. They paced back, Viktor cringing at every step he took with his worn, swollen feet. He had never worn skates for this long. 

But it was worth it to have this skater close to him. “Yuuri, how do you like my apartment?” 

“It’s nice. Your bedroom is warm and spacious.” 

“Wow, it sounds like you stayed in bed all day, little piggy,” Viktor teased. 

Completely seriously, Yuuri said, “I didn’t want to upset Makkachin, so I did just that. I came out in the evening and made some katsudon, just like the Katsukis’. I think your dog is warming up to me; he didn’t bark at me when I was in the kitchen.” 

Oh yeah, he could only take on a human form at night. Suddenly, Viktor realized that Yuuri was confined to the bedroom during daylight. In other words, Yuuri was a prisoner in a luxurious cell of Viktor’s apartment. 

Thinking, Viktor said, “Back when Makkachin was little, he was a very rowdy dog. I had to buy some pet gates. I can set up a few tonight. Would you like that, Yuuri?” 

“Eh? You can do that? I’d like that… if it’s not too much trouble for you.” 

“It’s no big deal!” Viktor insisted. “We can set them up until Makkachin’s used to you!” 

Satisfied that he could ameliorate Yuuri’s situation, Viktor said no more. They walked back in silence. When they got home, they set up a dog gate, dividing the apartment into two halves: one for Makkachin and one for Yuuri. 

Before Yuuri was even in bed, Viktor had collapsed on his bed, fast asleep. He was bone tired. 

~

Over his first week back from the Grand Prix Final, Viktor became a sleep-deprived zombie – sluggish, irritable, and unwilling to communicate other than through grunts. Between training for Russian Nationals and coaching his first student, he was sleeping maybe four hours a night. 

By Friday night, the last night he would coach Yuuri before Nationals, Viktor was simply exhausted. He didn’t join his protégé on the ice; instead, he leaned over the barrier and watched his muse fall on several quad salchows. 

Finally, he stepped on the ice and said, “Yuuri, you’re opening up too soon. Watch me.” Viktor glided over the ice, gaining speed, and then soared through the air. 

“Viktor! That was amazing! I think that was the best quad sal I’ve ever seen!” shouted Yuuri. 

But Viktor was bent over, holding onto the barrier, catching his breath. Yuuri skated towards his coach. “Are you okay?” 

Huffing and panting and still doubled over, he replied, “I’m a little tired. You’re younger than me and more stamina…”He paused as a finger touched the center of his spiral of silver hair. 

Overhead, Yuuri inhaled. “Sorry! I couldn’t help myself!” 

Viktor ran his fingers over his scalp. “Is it really getting that thin?” 

“No!” 

Viktor stared at his student intensely. 

“…well, yes.” 

Viktor lay down on the ice in pretend hopelessness. 

Yuuri sat down, stroking his mentor’s hair. “Viktor, can I ask you a question?” 

“Okay. What is it?” 

“What… is it like… to grow old?” 

Viktor snorted. “Geez, I’m only four years older than you!” 

Frantically waving his hands, Yuuri wailed, “No, I didn’t mean it like that!” More quietly, he said, “The truth is that we kitsunes don’t age.” 

“Huh?” 

“Well, we’re born as pups and mature into adult fox spirits, but after that, we don’t age. Well, we become older. We just don’t age. We don’t lose our fur or develop backaches.” 

Still not grasping it, Viktor pointed out, “What about your JSF bio? It says you’re twenty-four.” 

Yuuri let out a bark of laughter. “Silly Viktor! When I transform, I choose to turn into a twenty-something human male.” 

“Really? So in that case… You could skate forever!” 

“Heh, I couldn’t! People would get suspicious of a supposedly thirty-year-old man who hadn’t aged a day! At best, I can skate a few more years. Then, I’ll retire and go back home to the forests in Hasetsu.” 

Viktor’s heart ached at the mention of retirement. “How long do you plan to skate?” 

“Well, I wanted to skate until I reached my goal, which I did at the Grand Prix Final, so I honestly don’t know how long I’ll be skating.” 

“What was your goal?” Viktor asked, suddenly curious. 

“Viktor, you never answered my question about aging!” 

He stroked his chin, lost in contemplation. “Hmm, I don’t like the physical aspect of aging. Sometimes I ache. My injuries heal more slowly. I get winded more easily. And of course, I’m losing my hair. But other than that, I don’t care about getting older. I don’t have many close to me. My family… well, we don’t talk. I’m more worried about others getting old.”

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, like Yakov… He’s been my coach for at least a decade now. Sometimes, I notice his wrinkles, and I feel a little bad about not listening to him. Not enough actually to listen to him, of course. But he’s not just my coach; he’s like my father. He taught me how to behave in public. He pulled me out of the dirt, put me on my feet, and made me into a person. I’ll be … sad when he’s… when he’s gone. Lots of people will be.” 

“I think I understand now.” 

They stayed like that, drawing comfort from each other’s presence, until Viktor said, “Yuuri, I’m tired. Let’s head back for today.” 

“Okay,” Yuuri agreed as he helped Viktor get up off the ice. They went home together. 

~

Very early next morning, Viktor left his apartment for Russian Nationals, leaving his human sleeping beauty undisturbed. 

Russian Nationals, for all it was worth, wasn’t a big deal for Viktor. Skate two clean programs, shake some hands, accept the gold medal, take selfies with fans. This was routine to him. 

This year, Viktor skated brilliantly during the short program, securing a margin of victory that was practically insurmountable. The following day, he awoke with a headache and a sore throat. He skated his long program technically perfectly but without a hint of his usual charm. Nevertheless, he won the free skate and the whole event. Even with Yurio nipping at his heels, he managed to defend his title. 

Viktor spent the rest of his time at Nationals shaking officials’ hands, giving interviews, doing whatever he had to do to keep his federation and the fans happy. And both needed lots of tending to, especially after he took on a certain Japanese figure skater as his student. 

At last, Russian Nationals were over. Viktor felt sick. All these people here made him want to crawl under a bed and hide; it was too crowded.

He took the soonest flight away from the masses back to St. Petersburg, arriving at his apartment late at night. The instant he opened the door, something felt terribly wrong. His vision was hazy, and his legs felt wobbly. Delirious, he toppled to the floor with a loud crash. 

“VIKTOR! Don’t leave me!” he heard faintly before he passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My version of kitsune mythology is based on what I could find, but I may have altered some of it for the sake of the plot.


	3. Let’s Leave Together

Viktor regained consciousness in his bed, his shivering body neatly tucked into the sheets, an ice pack on his burning forehead. Bright sunlight danced on the white snow blanketing St. Petersburg and streamed in through the blinds. Makkachin was curled up next to him, in the spot where Yuuri usually slept. 

He realized that a fuzzy mass was nudging his hand. Struggling to turn his head, he discovered a familiar gray fox with a sheet of paper in its mouth. Squinting, he read the note. 

Viktor, 

You collapsed on the floor last night. You had a fever. I think you have the flu. There is medicine in the drawer next to you and soup in the fridge. I will help you in any way I can. 

Makkachin is worried about you. I am, too. I will stay close to you, so please stay close to me. 

Yuuri

Viktor reached out to pet the fox waiting by his bedside. “Yuuri, thank you…” he whispered before falling asleep. 

The next time he awoke, it was nighttime. Yuuri was still at his side, reading a book, pushing up his glasses and playing with a pearl bead on his necklace. 

“Viktor! You’re awake! How are you feeling?” Yuuri lovingly touched Viktor’s forehead. 

“Better,” he croaked, finding his voice hoarse and his throat scratchy. 

“I let Yakov know you wouldn’t be able to practice since you need bed rest.” 

“What?! I do no-” Viktor suddenly burst into a fit of coughing. 

Yuuri gave him the most infuriating look before inhaling deeply. “Viktor… You’re overworking yourself. I think you should… you should coach me less.” 

“No, Yuuri!” he shouted indignantly. 

“You have to focus on your own skating career first, Viktor!” 

“No! You don’t see how much of a gift your own skating is!” 

“The people want you, Viktor Nikiforov.” 

“Yuuri…” 

Yuuri took in a few ragged breaths. “I’m thankful for everything you’ve done for me. I never dreamed I would be training in this top-notch facility with your guidance. I didn’t see myself skating for this long. But please, Viktor, don’t overwork yourself again!” At this point, tears were dripping down his cheeks. “It’s not good for either of us if you get sick. I really thought I lost you last night. I’m afraid of losing you. Please, Viktor…” 

Neither spoke for a few minutes, until Viktor noticed he, too, was weeping. 

“Yuuri, I don’t want to make you cry…” Hot tears flowed down his face. “You’re right; I don’t have a lot of energy nowadays. I honestly don’t think I can coach you more than once a week without reducing my own training.” 

“That would be enough. You’ve done more than enough for me…” 

The two men embraced in silence, both still crying. 

~

For the next few weeks, they followed that regime. Viktor skated in the mornings and afternoons with Yakov all week. Yuuri practiced by himself in the evenings. On Fridays, Viktor coached Yuuri, correcting his jump technique, stabilizing his quads. 

Just like for Russian Nationals, Viktor left Yuuri in St. Petersburg to attend the European Championships in Budapest. In yet another competition, on a Friday evening, Viktor Nikiforov defended his title, fending off Chris and some younger challengers from Italy and the Czech Republic. 

This was simply mundane. The audience, the judges, the competition never surprised him. He skated, he won. That was it. 

He missed his regular Friday nights, the awe present on Yuuri’s face whenever he demonstrated a jump, his determination and drive to get it right. 

On the plane ride back, he was sitting next to Yakov. His coach leaned back in the tiny place seat, closed his eyes, and said, “You’re not really coaching Katsuki.” 

It wasn’t a question; it was a statement. 

“You’re far too well rested to be coaching him properly,” Yakov pointed out. “I don’t know why he’s bent on having you as his coach, but my offer to take him as a student still stands. He’s talented. Lots of potential.” 

Immediately afterwards, Yakov fell asleep, his arms tightly crossed over his chest, wrinkles permanently etched into his perpetually stern mien. 

Viktor finally understood how his coach could sleep anywhere, at anytime, at a moment’s notice. 

And he so sorely wished Yuuri had a coach who would lose sleep for him. 

At home, when Viktor had just returned from the rink and Yuuri had yet to go train, Viktor mentioned, “Yakov is still interested in coaching you.” 

Yuuri mewled. “Viktor, are you trying to get rid of me?” 

“No! Of course not! I just think he would be a better coach.” 

“He doesn’t know what I am,” Yuuri growled bitterly. “I can’t do it.” 

~

So in the month between the European Championships and Four Continents, Viktor and Yuuri continued training as usual. Yuuri was definitely improving and fixing problem areas that he normally wouldn’t take into account. Viktor was sure his mentee would earn sky-high program component scores. 

They traveled to Osaka, Japan for Four Continents, their first time going to a competition together as skater and coach. Thousands of eyes and cameras were on them, the Japanese ace who competed solo, now accompanied by a living skating legend as his coach. 

Yuuri opted out of morning practice, choosing to hide in his and Viktor’s room. However, once he learned that this was Viktor’s first time in Osaka, he insisted his coach go sightseeing and signed him up for the first event he could find, a tour of Minoo Park. 

Viktor wouldn’t have gone, except Yuuri paid for the tour with his own money. Viktor didn’t want Yuuri’s efforts to go to waste. 

He arrived at the park, seeing a small group of people of tourists clustered round a woman, who said, “Hi, everyone. My name is Okukawa Minako, and I will be your tour guide today!” 

Viktor followed the crowd through the natural hiking trail, ignoring the tour guide’s words and instead marveling at the scenery. He could get a couple nice Instagram photos out of this. 

As they stopped by the edge of a forest, Minako said, “According to Japanese legends, in the forests all over Japan, there are yokai, demons, called kitsunes. They are foxes that can transform, often into human beings.” 

Viktor was all ears. 

“Kitsunes may look like ordinary foxes, but they are very different. They are proud, solitary creatures that have a hard time making friends. For the first one hundred years of their lives, they live like other foxes. After living for a hundred years, they can learn to transform themselves into other creatures, usually humans.” 

What did she say?! 

“Some kitsunes are benevolent beings, working alongside humans for mutual benefit. Others can be mischievous, even malicious. There are old myths about them bewitching humans, tricking them out of their wealth, even pretending to be beautiful women in order to bewitch young men.” 

That sounded menacing. 

“When a kitsune is in a form other than its natural fox form, it will carry around its hoshi no tama, a round white ball that contains its magical powers. Legend says that if a kitsune is separated from its hoshi no tama for too long, it will lose its spiritual power and retain its current form, living as that form for the remainder of its life. A kitsune will protect its hoshi no tama with its life.” 

Viktor could hear nothing else above the beat of his pounding heart. Was this all true? And if it was…

Was there a way to turn Yuuri into a human? 

Immediately, Viktor fought away the selfish thought. It was plain wrong of him to want to change who Yuuri was. Besides, this was just a folktale, right? 

Viktor had to rush back to the hotel. The fox was still sleeping. Viktor sat in a chair, his leg jittering. 

When the sun finally set, human Yuuri sat up. “Viktor, you’re back! How was the tour?” 

Coldly, Viktor said, “The tour guide gave us an overview of kitsune mythology.” 

“How was it?” he asked nervously, touching the pearl he always wore around his neck. 

“It was … enlightening. Yuuri, how old are you?” 

“I’m twenty-four, according to JSF,” Yuuri stammered. 

“How old are you?” Viktor repeated. 

Yuuri looked at his hands. “I’m 124 years old,” he muttered. “I’m actually young for a kitsune. We usually live about five hundred years.” 

Viktor bit the inside of his cheek. It seemed like that tour guide hadn’t been wrong. 

“And that,” he said, pointing at Yuuri’s necklace, “Is your hoshi no tama?” 

Yuuri clutched the pearl in his hand and refused to answer. 

“I’m your coach. I need to know if there’s anything that can threaten your health or wellbeing!” Viktor shouted. 

Yuuri paled, letting go of the pearl. “Yes…” 

“If you lost that necklace, would you lose your powers?”

“Not just that! I’d die!” Yuuri yowled. 

“Huh? That’s not what the tour guide said.” 

With a groan, Yuuri complained, “Even after all these years of cooperating with humans, you guys still don’t get how kitsunes operate.” He sighed and said, “This pearl isn’t the source of just my shape-shifting powers. This contains my spirit. If I lose this necklace, I will die. There’s only one way for me to live without this necklace, and it’s unfeasible.” 

“And that way is?” 

“If another creature consumes my hoshi no tama, I would be reborn in the same form as that creature. I would live in that form, living off that creature’s remaining lifespan.” 

Viktor must have looked incredibly perplexed since right afterwards, Yuuri said, “The hoshi no tama draws on its surroundings for guidance as it is destroyed. If a dog with two years of life left ate my hoshi no tama, I would take on the form of an ordinary dog. The dog and I would both live one year because we would be sharing its lifespan.” 

Viktor ran his fingers through the bangs covering left eye. With his hand partially obscuring his face, he said, “Thank you for telling me this, Yuuri. I’ll be better able to coach you now. Let’s protect your necklace.” 

Relieved, Yuuri said, “Thank you for being an understanding coach, Viktor. I’m going to go practice now. Do you want to come?” 

“Not today. I’m rather tired.” 

Smiling softly, Yuuri said, “Okay. Take care.” 

Once Yuuri left the room, Viktor locked himself in the bathroom and glared at his reflection, disgusted by his selfish, pathetic inner workings. 

He couldn’t deny it to himself – he wanted to consume that hoshi no tama and make Yuuri human. He so badly wanted to wake up in the arms of human Yuuri, to skate side-by-side with him in the daylight, to spend afternoons meandering around St. Petersburg together. As much as he adored his protégé, he hated their relationship, hated being two sides of one coin, two sides that coexisted but could never meet, face-to-face. That wasn’t the life or love he wanted. 

He would gladly sacrifice half his remaining life if he could spend the other half truly having life and love with Yuuri. 

But he couldn’t. It was too self-centered. It wouldn’t be right for him to take away Yuuri’s powers and to limit him to half a pitiful human lifespan. 

Viktor decided he would never even mention this dreadful idea. 

Yuuri returned from training morose and sullen.

For the short program, Yuuri fell on his usually solid triple axel. He ended up heading into the free skate in fourth place. In the free skate, he redeemed himself somewhat, rising up to second place, between JJ Leroy and Phichit Chulanont. 

Still, Viktor could tell some evil seed had planted itself inside Yuuri’s mind. 

~

Viktor hoped that returning to St. Petersburg would help Yuuri focus on skating, but his kitsune kept missing jumps and falling during spins. He wasn’t skating like the Grand Prix Final and Four Continents medalist he was! 

One Friday night, halfway between Four Continents and Worlds, in the confines of their apartment, Viktor confronted his student. “Yuuri, is something bothering you? You haven’t been skating well since Osaka.” 

“What do you mean?” Yuuri asked. Gosh, he looked like he was ready to bawl. 

“You fell on your flying sit spin. You never fall on your flying sit spin.” 

The entire figure skating fandom recognized Katsuki Yuuri as one of the best spinners in men’s figure skating. Viktor’s comment clearly struck a nerve. 

“Viktor, I’m sorry! I’ll work hard on my sit spin…” 

“I’m certain you can do the spin. You just seen very distracted. You’re not skating like your usual self. Is there something on your mind?” 

“I… I shouldn’t say it…” 

Viktor grabbed both sides of his own head as if he had a massive headache. Wildly waving his arms around like an angry windmill, he declared, “Yuuri! I am your coach! How am I supposed to help you if you won’t be honest with me?!” 

“It’s just a silly thought,” mumbled Yuuri. 

“Do tell,” Viktor said rather snarkily. 

“I was wondering… What if I gave you my hoshi no tama?” 

“Yuuri, you can’t! You have to stay close to it.” 

“No, no! You don’t understand. What if… you consumed it?” 

“Huh?” 

“I would become human,” Yuuri said faintly. “We could train together under Yakov. I could train during the day.” Louder, he countered himself. “It’s a bad idea. I can’t ask you to sacrifice half of your lifespan.” 

Viktor blinked rapidly. The answer he wanted was there and… and it was still wrong. “Yuuri, I won’t consume your hoshi no tama.” 

Yuuri became so crestfallen that Viktor felt compelled to add, “I’m not saying that because I’m unwilling to give you half of my life. I would gladly give half my life to you. The truth is I wish you were human. It’s hard to be the coach of a kitsune. It’s hard to love someone I only see at night. There’s nothing more I want than for us to attend morning practices together and spend afternoons strolling around this lovely city.” 

Dammit, he said too much. He would probably lose his student for being too creepy and clingy. 

Anyway, Viktor went on. “It’s for your own sake. If you were a human, you would lose your magic and live a much shorter life.” 

It was quiet. Viktor choked back a sob as he felt his fantasy crumble. 

Suddenly, Yuuri shouted, “You don’t understand! I don’t want to live like this anymore! I don’t want to be a kitsune, staying the same while watching everyone I love die!” 

Clutching a couch cushion, he said, “The nice Katsuki family that took care of me and fed me… They died many decades ago. You told me that it made others sad that Yakov was getting old. I’ve spent my life lamenting the deaths of everyone I know and everyone they know. I… I don’t want to see that happen to you, Viktor.” 

Viktor’s heart stopped. He wanted to hold Yuuri close and do whatever his dear desired. Nevertheless, it didn’t see right. “Yuuri, death is part of people’s lives. We see our loved ones pass away. You shouldn’t let me hold you back.” 

“You don’t understand what you mean to me, Viktor!” Yuuri retorted. “You gave my life meaning. That girl I told you about, Yuuko, she’s the first person I ever saw figure skate. She talked about how she wanted to skate like someone named Viktor Nikiforov all the time. She showed me a video of you at the World Junior Figure Skating Championships.” 

“Ever since I saw that, I knew I had to be a figure skater in order to meet you. I wouldn’t have done any of this if it weren’t for you! Don’t tell me it’s fine for me to watch you die!” 

Viktor reached out to hold Yuuri’s hand. Yuuri clung to the hand as if he were afraid to let go. 

“Once I knew who you were, I made it my goal to stand by your side on top of a podium. I got to do that three times already! And now, there’s nothing more I want than to stand by your side for the rest of my life.” 

Viktor felt lightheaded, almost giddy. He touched the hoshi no tama and breathed, “Yuuri, take off your hoshi no tama.” 

Eyes wide, Yuuri complied, gently taking the pearl off the necklace and giving the orb to his coach. 

Viktor cupped the pearl carefully, bringing it to his lips. 

“Viktor! Are you sure?” 

He stopped. “I’m sure if you’re sure.” 

“I am.” 

Without hesitation or doubt, Viktor closed his mouth around the pearl. It dissolved in his mouth like meringue. 

He didn’t feel any different. 

Yuuri, however, looked absolutely stunned. He studied his fingers with newfound wonder. Then, he hugged Viktor’s waist. 

~

In the morning, Viktor squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the sun. Makkachin lay at the foot of the bed. 

“Good morning!” 

Viktor opened his eyes and found before him Katsuki Yuuri, his muse and mentee, basking in sunlight from the window. 

“Get up, Viktor!” he said with a smile. “We have morning practice!” 

Viktor leapt out of bed to embrace the man before him. “It worked!” 

“We have practice!” Yuuri reminded him. 

They rushed out, only to discover that even though it was sunny, it was also raining. “I love sunshowers,” his student said wistfully. 

Meanwhile, Viktor was opening his umbrella. “Yuuri, I’m your coach, and I don’t want you getting wet!” 

Yuuri obliged, clasping hands with his mentor. They got to the rink earlier than everyone else, even Yakov. When the coach walked in, Yuuri approached him, head bowed, begging to have him as his coach. Surprised, Yakov looked to Viktor, who nodded somberly. He would miss being Yuuri’s coach, but Yuuri was still his. 

They settled into a comfortable pattern. Morning practice under Yakov’s instruction, afternoon romps around the area, and evenings at home with Makkachin, who had taken a sudden liking to Yuuri. 

One night, when Viktor was by himself, he went to a jewelry store and picked out a simple gold band. He would give it to Yuuri after Worlds. 

At Worlds, Viktor was first in the short program Yuuri, third. Viktor skated second-to-last, scoring a season’s best. Yuuri skated last. At the last moment, Yuuri, to everyone’s shock, changed his jump layout to include five quads, breaking Viktor’s record and winning gold. 

They stood on the World podium together, holding hands. Something cool slipped onto Viktor’s hand. It was a golden ring. Yuuri gazed at him meaningfully. 

Viktor’s jaw dropped – not only had his former student surpassed him, he had also beaten him to a proposal. 

~

Viktor and Yuuri competed for a few more years, trading spots on the podium, supporting one another. Eventually, they retired together, taking over the training camp in St. Petersburg. Sometimes, they saw friends. Other times, they traveled. 

Mostly, they walked the length of the city, laughing and smiling. 

And thirty years later, when they were ready, they left the world together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This concludes my first YOI multichapter fic. (Stay Close to Me does have multiple chapters, but I think of it more as separate and independent stories within the same AU.) 
> 
> Fluffier one-shots are definitely easier for me to write, but I'd like to branch out into other styles. I like writing YOI fanfiction, and I really hope this fandom stays active for a long time! (I would also like a second season!)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello to all my readers! I thought I would write something a little more serious than my usual fare. I'd love to hear from you if you like this story. 
> 
> This is most likely going to be my last work for a while - I'm going to be busy for the next few months. 
> 
> Since Viktor is based on Evgeni Plushenko, and Plushenko often skated to Edvin Marton's music, I thought Viktor's SP music could be one of Marton's works. 
> 
> Yuuri's SP and FS music are both related to kitsune. His SP music, Sunshine through the Rain, is from the Kurosawa movie Dreams. Kitsune have their weddings during sunshowers. His FS music, Fox Rain, is from the My Girlfriend is a Gumiho OST. I imagine he would skate to an instrumental version of it.


End file.
